


Things I Can('t) Fix

by spicydanhowell



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Chaptered, Depression, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Therapy, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-02-28 11:51:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13270881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicydanhowell/pseuds/spicydanhowell
Summary: Phil Lester is 25, and suffers from a mild anxiety disorder. He seeks help in the form of group therapy, where he meets Dan. Dan Howell is 21, and keeps to himself even if the secrets of his past are tearing him apart.





	1. Objective

“You won’t regret going, Phil. You might as well give it a shot.” called the familiar voice from the lounge.

“I guess you’re right.” mumbled Phil in reply as he stirred the sugar into his coffee.

“If it’s really bad, we can get take away after, and watch any movie you want. I promise I’ll finish my work by the time you get home” Mark persuaded.

Phil laughed lightly as he padded into the lounge and sat on the opposite end of the couch. “I already agreed, but I appreciate the offer.” He paused to sip his coffee. “I _will_ hold you to that by the way. If it’s awful, you buy dinner.”

Mark held up his glass of green smoothie. “And- and- if you like it, _you_ buy dinner. Wait- you order the delivery, AND have to go to the door with no pants! Wait-” Phil clinked his mug against Mark’s glass gently, and laughed again.

“I’m not doing any of that.”

“Okay fine.” Mark responded faux-defeatedly. “In all honesty, I don’t wanna make light of this. I’m glad you’re going to therapy. You’re my bro, and I care about you.”

“Awoh, thank you. I mean, It’s just group therapy. My doctor says I just need to learn some coping skills. I’m a little nervous is all.”

“Bit ironic innit?” Mark chuckled.

“What ‘cause I have anxiety? I know, right?” Phil mused. Mark was a good friend. When Phil trapped himself in a spiral of anxiety, Mark could always help him laugh his way out.

* * *

Group therapy was at six o’clock in the evening, which left Phil only a few hours to get some work done. He and Mark were card/board game developers for an independent company called Sketchy. It paid well enough, and was fun, rewarding work. At the moment though, Phil had hit a creative block. He needed a purpose to create. Every game has an objective, it’s the most important part, the first thing in the instructions pamphlet. Phil took a long shower, and scribbled fleeting ideas in the condensation on the glass wall.

* * *

 “Hello, everyone,” the young, soft voiced lady greeted. “Come inside.” She smiled, and unlocked the door to the meeting room. Phil had been sitting in a firm armchair, gazing absentmindedly at the various indoor plants in the narrow waiting room. Three other young adults waited quietly beside him. Two punky girls chatting in whispers, and one boy stared at his phone with unmoving eyes. At the lady’s arrival, all stood and followed her inside.

Phil took in his surroundings. The room had hardwood floors, wood-panelled walls with a large window on the far side, and a distinct lack of any real furniture. The girls quickly pulled bean-bag chairs to the center of the room and the boy sat cross-legged on a cushion.

“You must be Phil? I’m Natalie.” said the therapist holding out her hand to Phil as he entered.

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” They had spoken only once on the phone, and she was a much smaller lady than he imagined.

“You can pull up a chair, or a cushion, and help yourself to any of my toys and whatnot.” With that Natalie shuffled over to the cupboard, retrieved some boxes of tissues, and an armful of water bottles, and placed them in the centre of the circle, alongside some colored pencils, paper, and fidget toys of various colors and shapes. The atmosphere was friendly, and comfortable, and Phil felt a wave of relief. He pulled a green cushion from the stack, and sat by the withdrawn boy, who now directed his blank stare at a hangnail on his thumb. Feeling awkward, Phil turned to him and smiled.

“Hey, I’m Phil.”

The boy looked up, and pushed his curls aside, revealing a set of deep brown eyes. “I’m Dan.”

* * *

 The session lasted an hour, and went by quickly. The boy called Dan spoke quietly and infrequently, whilst the girls were more outgoing and open. Antsy, Phil fumbled with the strings of his hoodie, and tried his best to contribute to the discussion. At the end, Natalie thanked Phil for joining them, and said she looked forward to seeing him again. Those words would be quite easy to say without meaning, but something about Natalie felt sincere to Phil, and it was comforting to him to feel accepted without a moment’s doubt.

As Phil retrieved his jacket from the tiny closet by the door, he turned and noticed Dan looking straight through him, until suddenly Dan raised his eyebrows, and looked away quickly, as though he had just noticed he was staring. Phil smiled, “Hey, Dan, it was nice to meet you.”

Embarrassed, Dan replied, “Ah, you too, Phil.”

* * *

 “Dan? Close your register for a moment. I need to talk to you quickly.” called Brian as Dan finished ringing up an elderly lady’s groceries. Oof. What was this going to be? He turned off his light, and ambled over to where the manager stood tending to the self service checkout.

“What is it?” Dan asked meekly.

“Hey, Dan, you’re not in any trouble, so don’t worry. I have the results of the customer satisfaction survey for this month, and your speed is good, but your friendliness is leaving something to be desired. Your average rating was only 2.4 stars. I know it seems silly, but you’re the last person people interact with here, so you need to leave them with a good impression of the store. Even just a smile, and a ‘thank you for shopping with us today’ makes a difference, okay?”

“Yeah, I understand. Thanks, Brian.” Dan said, his false enthusiasm faltering. What a screw up he was.

Brian cocked his head slightly, and quickly added, “Don’t worry too much though, you’re doing good work, and I’m glad you’re motivated to improve.”

“Yeah, thank you.”

* * *

 Dan stumbled into the foyer, rosy cheeked, at seven o’clock that evening. He removed his gloves and trainers before shouting a greeting to his mum and dad, and padding into the kitchen in his socks. There was pasta in the fridge, but rather than take it out and heat it up, Dan just stared unmoving, and unfeeling at the assorted food products within.

“Close the door, you’re letting the cold air out.” called his mum from the lounge. She was right. He closed the door, and retreated to his room to change his clothes.

As he reached the top of the stairs, Dan’s phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a text from Emily.

_Hey, you feeling better?_

Suddenly Dan remembered crying to her on the phone last night. He sheepishly replied.

_Yeah, I guess so._

_Thanks for listening to me._

_No problem mate :)_

Sans shirt and socks, Dan pulled on a pair of grey sweatpants and collapsed into bed, unshowered, and stomach empty.


	2. Dinner

Phil patted his pockets and shook out his coat but, to no avail, he had forgotten his keys. He rapped his knuckles on the door in quick succession, and heard Mark’s footsteps rush to the door.

“Hunny! You’re home!” Mark goofed as he flung it open. Phil only smiled, and removed his jacket and boots.

“Hey, did you finish working?”

“I’m on a roll, but I can stop. How did it go? Did you look at ink blots?” Mark teased. Phil giggled in reply as he fumbled with his gloves.

“It’s not that kind of therapy.”

“Any thicc bois?” Mark pressed.

“Why? You interested?” taunted Phil. Mark pouted his lip and shook his head, hands open in front of him.

“No, but I think you are. Anyway! Who’s buying dinner?”

There were Mark’s wide eyes and expressive eyebrows again. He was such a clown, Phil thought.

With faux-exasperation, rolling his eyes, Phil breathed, “I am, I _guess_.”

* * *

Dan checked his watch, and quickened his pace; Jayce would be expecting him soon, and he didn’t want to disappoint him. Evenings with Jayce were the best part of the day, ever since their first date, six weeks prior. It was that beautiful time of year where the leaves still clung to the trees, but the air was crisp, and Dan’s fingertips were cold.

He reached Jayce’s building with only a moment to spare, and warmed himself in the vestibule before jogging up the stairs. Jayce swung the door open before Dan could knock, his tall, thin frame and spectacled eyes striking Dan before he even parted his lips.

“Well, there you are!” Jayce’s tone was a mix of concern and impatience. “You had me worried!”

“Sorry, hunny, ahm.” Dan extracted his phone from the pocket of his jeans. “It’s only seven now.”

“Maybe.” Jayce shrugged. “Here, let me take your jacket. Dinner’s gonna get cold, so you should wash up.” he punctuated his sentence with a peck on Dan’s lips, before hanging his jacket on the coat rack. It was cute, Dan thought, how Jayce took care of him. He should be more careful not to let him down.

“You made me dinner?” Dan praised as he rolled up his sleeves and ran the water into the kitchen sink.

“Anything for you.” Jayce breathed emotionlessly, flashing a smile as he extracted the glass baking pan from the oven. The delicious smell clashed with the tension hanging in the air.

“Do you feel all right Jay-Jay?” Dan attempted, shaking his hands dry. “Did you miss your meds?”

“I’m fine. Depression has nothing to do with it.” Jayce replied, his tone suddenly harsh.

“But your me-?”

“I stopped taking them.”

Dan bit his tongue, and pushed cautiously. “You shouldn’t do that.” Jayce slammed two sets of cutlery on the kitchen table.

“ _Don’t_ tell me what to do, Dan. Eat your dinner. I’m going to take a shower.”

Jayce quickly disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Dan sitting alone at the kitchen table, running his hands through his hair.

* * *

“So what’s this project you’re so immersed in?” Phil enquired, mixing his chicken and vegetables into his mound of white rice. Mouth full, Mark perked up, slapping the arm of the sofa until he could force himself to swallow.

“It’s my pride and joy, Philly L. I came up with it last night. It’s this party game, right? The czar asks a question, and everyone has to appeal to the prompt- they can write whatever they want- but each person also has a wacky persona, and their response has to make sense for, like, what their persona would say. It’s still a work in progress, but, I’m really excited, mate.”

It’s a genius idea, Phil thought, instantly conscious of his own drought of creativity.

“That’s really good!” Phil praised, “Are you gonna pitch it to Lisa?”

“Did that today, brother.” Mark beamed, filling his mouth again with hot-and-sweet vegetables.

“Ace.” Phil nodded, digging in to his own food, and reaching for the TV remote.

* * *

Only a moment after he heard the shower stop running, Dan knocked nervously on the bathroom door.

“Jayce? I’m sorry. Please come out?”

“Coming.” he replied calmly. Jayce emerged a minute later wearing only jeans, and running a towel over his dirty blonde hair.

“H-hey, I’m sorry I pressed you like that-”

“Good,” was all Jayce replied, without a second of eye contact. “Did you eat?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably post another chapter tonight or tomorrow, stay tuned :)


	3. Coffee or Tea?

In no time, a week passed, and Phil was scaling the stairs to Natalie’s office once again. In a way, Phil was glad to be back. The environment of the group was calming and inviting, and Phil felt he could open up much more easily here than in other social situations. It was because of this that Phil felt slightly disappointed to see a sign on the waiting room door that read ‘Due to inclement weather conditions, all group therapy sessions have been cancelled. If you were not aware of this change, please check your voicemail! I have left each of you a message. If you feel you need to be seen sooner, please give me a call. :-)’. 

Fuck, Natalie had specifically warned them that this was a possibility, and Phil had forgotten to listen to his voicemail. As he turned to retreat down the stairs, he realized he was not alone. A lone figure dressed in black jeans and a long grey jumper loomed at the top of the stairs, biting his thumb, and jumping slightly at Phil’s sudden movement. Unintentionally, they locked eyes.

“Oh! Dan, hi.” Phil stammered.

“Hi.” Dan replied quickly, not breaking eye contact for even half a second. “Um, what does the sign say?”

Phil scooched over so Dan could read. Dan hummed when he was finished, and ran his fingers through his brown curls. Phil was unsure what to say next. Dan was blocking the stairs, so Phil could not leave first, but Dan didn’t seem to be in a terrible hurry to leave. Just as Phil’s social anxiety began to heighten, his thoughts were interrupted.

“I guess I’m gonna get coffee.” Dan bit his lip, and glanced left and right. “Wanna come with?” he offered monotonously.

“Ah, yes! Sure. Where about?” Phil replied, too quickly. The corners of Dan’s lips curled upward, creating two small dimples.

“The cafe downstairs, I guess.” 

“Oh, right! Good. Let’s go.”

* * *

 

“You’re so pretty, Dan.” Jayce observed from where he lay sprawled on the couch. Dan bit his lip and smiled as he poured their morning tea at the kitchen counter.

“You are.” Dan returned, as he padded into the lounge with their mugs, handing one to his partner, and gently moving Jayce’s long thin legs so he would have a place to sit.

“This is good.” Jayce nodded, sipping his tea. Before Dan could say ‘thank you’ he noticed Jayce was looking him up and down.

“What is it?” he enquired.

“Nothing, I just think you’re getting too skinny Dan. Maybe you shouldn’t be running so much.”

The comment threw Dan off. He wasn’t sure he was especially thin, and he only went to the gym a few days per week with a few friends. Not to mention that Jayce was a much slimmer guy than he was.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Was all Dan replied.

“Well, you look a bit like a kid, you know?”

“O-oh.” Dan stammered. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what else to say. The conversation was weirdly embarrassing, and Dan felt suddenly self conscious of his smaller stature, and age. “I guess I could eat more.” Jayce shook his head. 

“Just work out with me instead of doing cardio with those girls. You need muscles.”

“Right.”

* * *

 

“Do you go to school, Dan?” Phil asked, stirring two sugars into his drink. Dan shook his head.

“I dropped out.”

“So you work, I guess.”

“Yeah, I work for Milo’s. The grocery store.” Dan paused before adding, “I’m a cashier.” He felt a smack of shame the moment he said it.

“Oh yeah? I worked a retail job a few years ago. I don’t envy you.” Phil replied as he gulped his still-too-hot coffee. His tone was completely devoid of judgement, and Dan’s tension was instantly relieved. “My job now is actually quite cool. I make board games.” Dan’s eyes widened.

“I love games. Have you made any I’ve heard of?” 

“Maybe, I work for a small company called Sketchy, and I haven’t had a huge idea in a while, but my friend Mark is really good and we usually collaborate. Right now he’s got this-” Phil stopped suddenly as he realized how relaxed he was. He usually could only talk so freely with family, or with Mark. “Ah, he’s working on a party game.” If Dan noticed Phil was feeling awkward, he didn’t mention it.

“Sketchy? Is that the company that made Shots and Hagglers?”

“Yeah! I didn’t really have anything to do with it, but I love that game.” Phil smiled.

“Yeah, I got it for my friend for Christmas a couple years ago, and- Oh, fuck!” Dan whispered-shouted, looking horrified at his phone.

“What? What’s wrong?” 

“I was supposed to leave group early today for work, and I completely forgot.” Dan pulled his coat over his shoulders and slid his arms into the sleeves easily. “I really have to run, now. I’m sorry.” 

Phil chuckled lightly.  “It’s no problem. It was really nice to talk, Dan.”

“Same.” Dan huffed, as he hurriedly threw away his trash. “See you later!” he called as he rushed out the door, too quickly for Phil to reply.


	4. Hands

Phil remained at the cafe a few minutes longer as he processed the interaction he had just had with Dan. In group, he had seemed so spaced out, but in the span of 20 minutes Dan became a completely different person. Additionally, it was definitely a rarity for Phil to be so comfortable with a new person. Usually, he was a bit of a recluse.

As he threw away his trash, and pulled on his jacket Phil realized he hadn’t got Dan’s phone number, so it would probably be a while before he saw him again.

* * *

 “Merry Christmas.” Jayce smiled as he opened the small cardboard box, revealing a beautiful gold chain.

“Oh wow! Thank you, baby. I’ve never had something like it before.” Dan beamed. Jayce removed his steam-fogged glasses, and the beautiful man in front of him drowned out the twinkling lights, and chatter of the coffee shop.

“Good. I wanted to get something really special for you. Turn around.” Dan spun on his bar stool and Jayce clasped the chain around Dan’s neck. “Perfect.”

Dan blushed. “I don’t deserve you, Jayce.”

“You haven’t even heard the best part yet,” Jayce teased. Dan raised his eyebrows. “My mum asked me to invite you for Christmas Eve. She’s excited to finally meet you.”

“Of course. I’d love to meet your family.”

Jayce beamed again. “I’ll let her know. She’ll be so pleased.”

* * *

 Dan made his way to work with a few minutes to spare, and quickly changed into his ‘Milo’s’ tee shirt. Despite having just arrived at his personal hell, Dan had a new spring in his step, and the corners of his mouth were turned slightly upward. In contrast, however, his hands were shaking, and not from the cold.

Phil was unique, and kind, but also strikingly handsome, and it took all of Dan’s will to push the latter adjective from his mind. Phil was a cool guy. A moderately successful, shy, creative guy, and that was it.

* * *

“Come on, mate. There must be something in here.” Mark encouraged, patting Phil’s head roughly.

“Oi, stop that.” Phil scolded, falling sideways on the sofa to avoid his hand. “I’m just lost for ideas right now. Maybe I’ll just work on yours with you.”

“Fine by me, Lester.” Mark leant back and folded his arms. “I miss the old days sometimes: pulling caffeine fueled all-nighters working on _Amatuer Philosopher.”_

That game had been Mark’s brain-child as well, Phil realized, and as much as he hated to mooch off of his friend’s ideas, Mark seemed happy to have his help.

“You don’t have to credit me, or pay me, though. I just wanna help you out, and maybe get my creative juices flowing again.” Phil clarified.

“I’m happy to split the royalties 60-40, but be my guest, Philip. Let me inspire your creative ejaculation.”

Phil laughed, “Don’t say that.”

* * *

(December 23rd 2015)

Dan and Jayce arrived at Jayce’s family home late in the evening, too late for dinner, but not too late for a bit of wine, and light chit-chat by the fire. Mr. Hopf had passed away when Jayce was a teenager, and was survived also by his wife, Karen, and daughter, Elise. The ladies doted on Dan’s appearance and charm, and Ms. Hopf thanked him repeatedly for taking care of her son, making him blush uncontrollably.

By eleven that night, all had tired themselves out, and went to bed, save for Jayce, who had been quieter than usual, and offered to clean up the kitchen before joining Dan in bed.

Dan roused from his half-sleep when he heard footsteps enter the small bedroom. “Jay Jay.” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He opened them to see Jayce standing over him, but looking at the floor. “What’s wrong? Get in bed, babe.”

“You better keep your mouth shut.” Jayce whispered through gritted teeth. Dan only mumbled in confusion before being yanked from bed by his arm.

“Jayce, ow! What the fuck?” Jayce smacked his hand over Dan’s mouth before pushing him back onto the bed, and kneeling on the mattress with his knees on either side of Dan’s waist. He removed his hand from Dan’s mouth.

“Shut up. Don’t say another word.” Dan opened his mouth and Jayce raised his hand as though to slap him. “I invite you into my home, and you embarrass me in front of my family?”

“Jayce, I don’t know what-” Jayce landed a blow directly into Dan’s sternum, and muffled Dan’s yelp with his other palm.

“Save it. You said enough. Teasing me in front of my mum, and my sister? That ends right now.” Dan’s heart thumped wildly, and he struggled to breathe. Jayce had never been this aggressive before. He couldn’t fight back. He was frozen. “Let this be your lesson.” Jayce removed himself from his place on top of Dan’s quaking body, and quickly jabbed his fist into Dan’s stomach. Dan yelped quietly, and curled into a ball, shaking, and speechless.

Jayce removed his glasses and shirt, walked around the bed, lifted the duvet, and lied down. Dan jumped up, and turned around cautiously, unsure whether to stay, or go. As if you answer his question, Jayce instructed, “Lie down, Go to sleep,” and Dan obeyed.


	5. Up All Night

“Look what I’ve got Philly!” sang Mark, and he kicked off his snow covered shoes. Phil looked up from his laptop and raised his eyebrows at the 12 pack of Red Bulls that Mark was wielding.

“Is tonight the night?” Phil grinned.

“The ‘all-nighter night’? Yup, and don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got you covered with caffeine, and avocado based snacks.” Mark dropped his groceries on the kitchen table, and presented his tub of guacamole. Phil laughed, and jumped up off the couch.

“I thought we’d be having something else green, Mark. Like that one time.” Phil teased sarcastically.

“Never again. We don’t talk about that,” Mark joked nervously. “It was laced with something okay?” Mark defended against Phil’s continued laughter. “Do you want my guacamole or not?”

“Did you buy any tortilla chips?”

“Fuck.”

* * *

Dan slid in and out of sleep all night, eventually waking at 3am, and staring at the ceiling for a solid half hour. He glanced over at Jayce to find him sleeping soundly. Jayce wasn’t beautiful; he was intimidating, and threatening, even in his sleep, when most would appear peaceful.

Dan’s mind was on a loop. A hand gripping his arm, a palm over his mouth, a fist in his chest, a fist in his stomach. It felt like a nightmare. It was something that couldn’t possibly be true, but it was, wasn’t it?

Anxiously, Dan contemplated his course of action. He could slip out, and take the tube home. He could be home, in his bedroom, alone with his thoughts. Was it better, though, to be safe and alone, or hurt in company? And what would Jayce do if he woke up to find Dan had gone? He’d be furious. He’d cry, or try to hurt himself again…

* * *

Phil and Mark each downed two energy drinks, and set up in the office. They wrote ideas with markers on giant sheets of lined paper, and ate guacamole with plastic spoons, and saltine crackers. The working title of the game was _Persona,_ and the pair spent quite a while coming up with dozens of different people, animals, and mythical beings which players could roleplay as, as well as questions for the czar to present.

Around 1am it occured to Phil that he wished Dan was there. It was an odd thought. He had only properly talked to Dan once, but for some reason Phil really wanted to make him smile again. He badly wanted to ask Dan “What would a pug say if you asked him how that stain got on the carpet?”

Phil made a mental note to ask him on Wednesday.

* * *

“You awake, Danny?”

Dan’s heart skipped a beat. He shut his eyes quickly, and ignored Jayce’s question.

“Come on, I saw your eyes were open. What’s wrong?”

 _What’s wrong?_ Dan’s muscles tensed as he thought up an appropriate response.

“I can’t sleep,” he improvised. Jayce hummed poutily.

“Are you cold? C'mere” Jayce soothed, wrapping his arms around Dan’s body, leaving him unsure whether to feel loved, or trapped; comfortable, or restrained.

* * *

(Wednesday, after group therapy)

Group was sort of fun this week, Phil thought. They discussed anxiety triggers, and practiced coping skills such as meditative breathing, and playing with putty, and kinetic sand. What bothered Phil was how quiet and despondent Dan had been throughout the whole session, and there was that urge again, the urge to make Dan laugh.

“Hey, Dan.” Phil called as he bounced down the stairs. Dan, nearly out the door, turned and walked towards Phil, hands in his coat pockets.

“What is it?” he asked quietly.

“I wanted to ask you what a pug would say if you asked him how that stain got on the carpet.” Phil smiled.

Dan furrowed his brows, confused. “Is it a joke? I don’t know. What would he say?” Phil laughed.

“No, I’m asking you.”

Dan cracked a smile, chuckled, and finally let out a full belly laugh. “I have no fucking clue.” he giggled. “You’re such a strange person.”

“If you want context, you might have to let me buy you coffee.” Phil offered, gesturing at the vacant cafe.

“I’m not sure I do, but I’ll hear it anyway.” Dan wiped a tear from his eye, and followed Phil’s lead.

* * *

“You like Muse? I like Muse!” Dan chirped.

“Guess that makes us friends,” Phil laughed. He quickly realized, however, that ‘friends’ might have been pushy, and desperately tried to swallow his words. Dan, however, was smiling.

“We’re not really friends until we play at each other’s houses though.” Dan joked.

“Was that a thing when you were in primary school?”

“It wasn’t for you?” Phil shook his head. His cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling so much.

“I guess you’ll have to come over and play Mario Kart with me then, so we can be friends.” Phil suggested.

“Smoothe as fuck, Phil. How ‘bout Friday?”


	6. On The Rocks

The alternative rock station pumped sick beats through the apartment as Phil tidied up. Unfortunately, he had immersed himself in a long lost book, and missed several texts from Dan.

_Mum is giving me hell about where i’m going_

_What’s the address again?_

_Philllll_

_Sorry!_

Phil replied, and sent a link to his address on Google Maps.

_Apartment B1_

_:)_

_On my way_

Phil jammed the novel into the book shelf, and ambled to his bedroom to change into something other than sweats. He wore a green jumper and black jeans, and spent much too long trying to fix his hair in the bathroom mirror. Anxiously, Phil patted his thighs rhythmically as he paced up and down the kitchen, and eventually resolved to calm himself by looking at dog videos on Instagram. Moments later, he heard footsteps thud up the stairs, and opened the door before Dan had even reached the top.

“Oh, hey Dan.”

“Hi,” Dan puffed, rosy cheeked and smiling. He wore a maroon hoodie and ripped black jeans with stylish high-topped shoes. “I brought you this,” he handed Phil a bottle in a brown paper bag. “It’s a little gay, but so am I. I dunno what you drink, so…” Dan scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Phil removed the bottle from the paper to reveal a cheap fruity sparkling wine.

Phil chuckled. “Good guess. Like, actually really good guess. Mark always teases me ‘cause I love this kind of stuff.”

Dan grinned. “Guess I have good instinct. Mark is your roommate right? Is he in? Phil motioned for Dan to follow him into the kitchen.

“No, he said he was getting lucky tonight. He’s a madman.” He pulled two glasses from the cupboard and poured a glass of pink champagne for each of them.

“I hope you feel lucky too, Lester, ‘cause you challenged me to Mario Kart. Little do you know I’ve beat actual Japanese people online.”

“Well I hope _you_ like the taste of dust, because you’re gonna be tasting mine…tonight.”

Dan widened his eyes in horror and amusement, and downed his drink in one gulp.

* * *

 

_“Don’t you see that I’ll never get better, Phil? Nobody can fix me! How can anyone take away what he did when I can barely acknowledge that it’s all true?_

_You can’t fix me. I can’t fix me, and neither can Jayce…”_

 

* * *

Christmas of 2015 was a blur. Dan took the tube home late on the night of the twenty-fourth, and spent much of the next day forcing a smile, or lying in bed, running his fingers over the bumps of the gold chain around his neck. It was hard to talk, or eat. It was hard to pick up his cell phone and text Emily, or Kat, or anyone else. It was hard to be awake, so Dan chose to sleep.

In the morning, he had a text from Jayce.

_Come over._

And he did.

* * *

 “Get wrecked! Get wrecked! Get wrecked!”

“No! Get off my butt!”

“I won’t!”

Dan threw up his hands in victory, and looked expectantly at Phil who glared back poutily.

“All right, well done.” he conceded, as the lock clicked, and his roommate appeared. “Oh, hi Mahk.”

“I did nahhhht.” Mark replied, in a slightly better Tommy Wiseau voice, as he threw his jacket onto the armchair. “Who’s this?”

“I’m Dan.”

“Ah yes, The Dan. Good to meet you.” Mark held a fist out for Dan to bump. “I’m pretty drunk so I’m gonna sleep.

“Sleep well,” Phil chuckled, as Mark walked very carefully to his room.

“He seems like a guy who vapes,” Dan mumbled, smirking.

“Spot on.”

* * *

“Jay Jay?” Dan called softly, letting himself in. “What’s wrong?” The lanky, blonde man emerged from the bedroom.

“Come in here.” Dan followed him into the bedroom, which smelled heavily of whiskey, and left the door open behind him.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” He tugged at Dan’s jeans. “Missed you…” Dan tensed, and took a step back.

“Maybe not now, Jayce, okay?” he stuttered, but Jayce didn’t stop. “Jayce, please. You’re drunk.”

“We never have sex anymore.” Jayce hissed, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry. Can we maybe just talk?” Dan pleaded.

“Fine.” Jayce conceded, and poured another glass of whiskey at his desk. To Dan’s surprise, it was offered to him.

“Oh, maybe not, hun,” he protested, but Jayce still held to glass out to him, until he took it, and watched as he drank it.

* * *

 

Dan woke up four hours later, in pain, in Jayce’s bed.


	7. Affection

“So, you’re gay, you said?”

“Bi, actually,” Dan mumbled, reaching for his glass. They sat facing each other on either side of the sofa, Switch controllers balanced on the back rest.

“Oh, me too,” Phil smiled. Dan bit his lip. “I don’t get out enough to date much though.”

“Ah, yeah.” Dan forced a small laugh. “Me either.” The evening had been very comfortable thus far, but if this conversation went where Dan was scared it would…

“Nothing wrong with that really,” said Phil brightly. “Wanna order a pizza? That’s some strong champagne, and I haven’t eaten much,” he giggled.

Dan smiled genuinely. “Sounds good.”

* * *

Dan shivered. He was undressed from the waist down, and lying sprawled on his front, muscles sore, and blankets tossed aside. The worst sensation, however, was the pulsing ache in his forehead.

Dan pulled a blanket over himself, and sat up, hugging his knees. Confused and blinking away tears, he spotted the piece of copy paper taped to the door.

_Went out_

_There’s leftover takeaway in the fridge if you’re hungry, and a bag of frozen vegetables for the bruise._

_I love you!_

Bruise? Dan gently prodded above his left eyebrow, and the pain was much worse. How had he hit his head? He willed himself not to cry, as sobbing increased the headache from dull to stabbing. Dan stepped out of bed gingerly and, noting the blood stained sheets, pulled on only his pants, sparing his jeans any stains.

With a flick of the lightswitch, a horror was revealed to Dan in the bathroom mirror. His left eyebrow was split, and a sickly purple bruise surrounded the wound. The medicine cabinet held ibuprofen- Dan took three -and some fabric plasters. He gathered water in his cupped hand and rinsed the wound before adhering a plaster carefully to his forehead. Staring into his own empty, tired eyes, Dan prepared himself a boiling hot shower to bring back the feeling in his body.

* * *

“It was really nice to see you. You should come by again soon.”

“Aha, yeah. Maybe next week?” Dan grinned.

“I work on my own schedule, so let me know when you’re free,” Phil replied, handing Dan his discarded hoodie.

“I will.”

Phil opened the door, and stepped forward, one arm ready for an awkward bro-hug. Dan stepped back nervously, and Phil let his arm drop.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he apologized.

“Oh, yeah, sorry, I don’t hug much,” Dan stuttered, heart palpitating. Phil raised his eyebrows.

“What? Dan it’s okay,” he chuckled. “I get it, and I don’t mind.” Phil now offered his fist, which Dan bumped.

“Wicked,” Dan giggled. “Text you later.”

“Bye now.”

* * *

“Hey, you!” Jayce called, bouncing into the apartment. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

Dan was lying, wrapped in a thick blanket on the couch, staring blankly at some sort of cooking show. “I’m here” he mumbled. Jayce knelt down, and examined Dan’s forehead carefully.

“Sobered up now? You were pretty drunk.”

“Was I?” Dan mumbled again.

“We had sex, you smacked your head on the bedpost, and passed out. Do you remember that?”

“Not much.” Jayce hummed concernedly, and offered Dan his water bottle.

“Get some rest. I’m gonna make dinner in a little bit.”

“Okay,” Dan moaned.

“I love you.”

* * *

Late that evening, Dan finally made his way back home. As soon as the door was shut behind him, his mother came quickly padding into the entryway, a look of concern etched into her face.

“Bear? What happened to you? Where have you been?” fussed Dan’s mother as she examined his forehead.

“At Jayce’s place. I hit my head earlier.” Dan mumbled, exhaustedly.

“How? Are you bleeding? You didn’t go to hospital for stitches?” She combed through Dan’s hair with her fingers, viewing the bruise from all angles.

“It’s not that bad, Jayce cleaned it up for me. I’m okay,” Dan explained before breaking away from his mother’s hold, and scaling the stairs to his bedroom.

Why had he lied? Dan knew the idea of Jayce leaving him unconscious would distress and anger his mother, but it didn’t affect him. Jayce hadn’t hurt Dan, he just hadn’t helped, that is, until later on. These feelings were a puzzle. He was upset, and frightened when he came to, but not angry, and not upset with Jayce. Should he be? No, Dan thought, Jayce clearly cared. Jayce loved him, and he loved Jayce too.


	8. Gently

_“You were pretty drunk… We had sex, you smacked your head on the bedpost, and passed out. Do you remember that?”_

_Passed out after one drink. Bloodstained sheets. Naked from the waist down. Left alone, and freezing._

_“Do you remember that?”_

The word weighed on Dan’s neck as he collapsed onto his comfortable bed. The word that didn’t fit. The word that he could never associate with someone as caring, and loving, and fragile as Jayce.

_Rape._

It felt wrong to even consider the idea, to accuse someone so gentle of something so wrong. So if Jayce had done nothing wrong, why did Dan feel so horribly violated?

* * *

After battling off an anxiety attack all day, seeing Dan would make Phil feel at least a little more relaxed. He had that way about him. Dan was the sort of person who just wanted to make others feel accepted and comfortable. Much to Phil’s disappointment, however, Dan did not show up to group therapy that week, and after the session, Phil’s texts to him went completely unanswered.

He’d try again in the morning.

* * *

  _Dan?_

_Dan, come on where are you? Are you okay?_

Finally, the three dots appeared on the lower left side of the screen. They appeared and disappeared four or five times before Dan sent his reply.

_I’m fine_

_Just feeling low_

_Come over?_

* * *

_“Come over?”_ This was a question, not a command. The realization crushed Dan, bringing tears to his eyes as he typed ‘ok’.

* * *

“Phil, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“So why are you pacing like that?” Phil turned and looked Mark in the eye, unsure how to explain.

“It’s Dan,” he attempted. Mark raised his eyebrows.

“Are you… asking him out or something?”

“Well, no. Not that I wouldn’t, but he’s… upset about something.”

“Is he coming over?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll give you space.” Mark started to get up before Phil shook his head.

“It’s fine. I was going to invite him into my room.” Mark stood and put a hand on Phil’s shoulder.

“Nonsense, Philly,” he jested. “I’ll be in the office.” There was a knock at the door, and Mark turned his head. “Gotta go fast,” he smiled, and sauntered into the office, shutting the door behind him. Phil answered the knock, and carefully took in the sight of his friend with unkempt hair, wearing a stained hoodie and pajama pants, with yellow crust in the corners of his eyes. Dan was a mess. He wasn’t mascara stained streaks of tears, cigarettes, and slit wrists, he was human, and he was hurting.

More surprising than all else, however, was how without a word, Dan fully embraced Phil and squeezed tightly, hiccuping soft sobs into his sweater with no remorse.

“Dan? What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

* * *

_Hey baby_

_Hi_

_You were so good the other day_

_I want more ;)_

_No babe_

_I really don’t feel well_

_I’m sorry_

_Wow_

_That’s a pretty huge turn off y’know_

_Why won’t you ever put me first?_

_I’m sorry_

_Tomorrow, I promise_

_I’m not sure I want you tomorrow_

_You should treat me better than this :’(_

_Okay I’m sorry. I’m coming over_

_I love you <3 _

* * *

“I’m okay,” Dan sniffled. “It’s hard to explain, and I just need some company is all.” Phil detached himself from Dan’s embrace and looked him over carefully, biting his lip.

“I can do that,” Phil replied softly. “We can talk, or we can just put on some TV.”

“Can we just do nothing?” Dan sniffed again, and rubbed the crust out of his eyes.

“Yeah,” Phil smiled. “Of course.”

* * *

“Listen, Jayce, we need to talk,” Dan announced cautiously as soon as Jayce opened the door.

“We can talk later,” Jayce dismissed. Dan took a fearful step back, and summoned his courage.

“No, Jayce, we need to talk now.” Jayce widened his eyes, and crossed his arms. “You hit me, and-” Jayce raised his hand as though to slap Dan across the face.

“That was deserved Dan. You meet my family and laugh at my expense. You tell me I need my medication, like you know what’s best for me. You get in the way of what I want. I’m doing you a favor by loving you, ‘cause I know you have nobody else. Why not show me some fucking gratitude?”

Dan’s eyes welled with tears, but never broke contact with Jayce’s. Guiltily, Dan said nothing.

“Go into the bedroom and get undressed.”

Dan inhaled shakily, and uttered, with all of the courage he had.

“No.”

Jayce pushed Dan’s chest until he was pressed up against the wall, and slid one hand under his baggy hoodie.

“I don’t remember giving you a choice,” he hissed, extracting the cold, black pistol from it’s holster.


	9. Beginning and End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: some graphic violent content

Phil lied sprawled on his back on top of the covers in his bed, Dan puffy eyed beside him. The space heater warmed their feet, and neither moved nor spoke for a long time, until Dan slowly inched his hand over to Phil’s, took it, and traced circles into his palm. Phil squeezed in response.

“I don’t know where to start,” Dan whispered.

“What?”

“Telling you… Everything.”

Phil exhaled and squeezed Dan’s hand again. “Start at the beginning. I’ll listen.”

* * *

The blood rushed out of Dan’s face, and goosebumps formed on his arms. Panicked, he shouted.

“J-Jayce! Holy shit. You’ll go to jail,” he whispered. Jayce looked at the ground, and tears welled in his eyes, face contorting.

“Yeah?” he laughed sadly.

“You need help,” Dan choked, “You’re… aggressive and…” Jayce crumpled to the floor, hands holding the back of his head as he wept. “You raped me.” Jayce gave no reply as Dan panicked to deescalate the situation. “Listen, I’ll call for an ambulance, and you’ll go to hospital. I won’t tell anybody about the gun, I’ll just… get rid of it somehow.” Tears streamed down Dan’s cheeks as he knelt down to carefully pick up the discarded pistol, but Jayce’s hand reached it first.

“Baby… Why won’t you just do what I say?” Dan rushed to wrestle the gun out of Jayce’s grasp, but Jayce elbowed him in the chest, knocking him over and leaving him breathless. Sat on the floor of the kitchen, facing each other, Jayce calmly inserted the barrel of the gun into his mouth, and pulled the trigger. His body collapsed, and his head thunked against the cold tile floor.

Dan’s ears wrang, and his head felt light as he watched thick red blood drain from his boyfriend’s mouth and skull. For four minutes there was no sound aside from the ringing, and no movement aside from the flowing blood, until a firm hand pounded on the front door, and shouted something incomprehensible. Suddenly the room was full of people. Two paramedics were on Jayce, and an officer was looking Dan over, and asking him to raise his hands, and stand. He attempted to pick himself up, but failed, and stumbled back over. A smaller body rushed towards him, wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, and handed him a bottle of water.

She blocked his view of Jayce’s body as it was zipped into a yellow bag. She said her name was Sarah, and he said his was Dan. She asked if he had eaten today, and Dan said he had.

She asked who the other man was, and where Dan had got the wound above his eye.

She struggled to keep Dan conscious, and Dan struggled not to cry.

* * *

The ride in the ambulance was surreal. Paramedics wrapped the fingernail-shaped wounds he hadn’t realized were there on his palms, and cleaned his split eyebrow. They were moving fast. Everything was white. He was instructed to drink. A young man asked where he worked, and about his family. The van stopped. He was walking. He was in a hospital bed. He was asleep.

* * *

Phil held Dan tightly as he sobbed into his sweater once again. He ran his fingers through Dan’s hair gently, and squeezed his eyes tightly shut to stop himself from crying as well. Dan slowly pulled away and breathed shakily.

“Don’t you see that I’ll never get better, Phil?” Dan sobbed, he was growing passionate and almost angry. “Nobody can fix me! How can anyone take away what he did when I can barely acknowledge that it’s all true?” Dan shivered, and crossed his arms, clenching the opposite sides of his shirt in each hand. “You can’t fix me. I can’t fix me, and neither can Jayce…”

Phil looked down at the crumpled bed sheets and bit his lip in frustration. There was some truth to Dan’s words. Jayce’s actions could never be undone, but it didn’t mean Dan was without hope; it didn’t mean that at all.

“I understand. I understand why you feel like this. Do you want to be alone? You can have my room to yourself if you want, or I can stay”

“I need a shower, or a nap,” Dan mumbled.

“Okay,” replied Phil softly as he gathered his phone and laptop from the bedside table. “If you need anything, come find me, or text me.” Dan nodded, and Phil smiled weakly. “Get some rest.”

* * *

Phil slid into the office and gave Mark a minimal account of what had just gone down. Mark nodded, and and asked if Phil was gonna try to get some work done.

“I’m not sure I can,” he replied.

“Me either. These walls are thin, Lester,” Mark commiserated. “Wanna watch a movie?”

* * *

A few hours later, Phil peeked into his bedroom to see Dan sleeping peacefully. The duvet was bunched up in his crossed arms, and hair pushed back, revealing his forehead. Phil crept forward and examined Dan’s eyebrow closely. The makeup that had once covered his scar was smudged, and the sight was a dagger in Phil’s heart.

He reminded himself that Dan was safe now, and after everything he had gone through, Dan still trusted Phil this much. This was all he needed to know to decide that Dan was much stronger than he thought.

 


	10. Better

“Phil?” Dan mumbled, eyes closed, breaking the looming silence. Phil knelt down at the bedside.

“I’m here. Are you all right?” he asked softly.

“Headache.”

Phil stood and walked quietly to the dresser to retrieve his small bottle of ibuprofen, and a half-full bottle of water. “Here, take this.” Dan swallowed the pill and drank the water sleepily.

“Thank you,” he muttered, coughing a little. Both were silent for a long, but not uncomfortable moment. Dan had shut his eyes again, and Phil leant on the door frame as he watched Dan attentively. “Come lie down?” Phil jumped at the request, and shut the door quietly before shuffling to the other side of the bed and crawling in.

Only once he was under the duvet did Phil realize just how cold his hands and feet were, and just how warm Dan really was. He pondered nervously about whether or not to touch Dan. Phil’s hands were too cold to touch his skin, and he was not completely sure if Dan would want to be hugged anyway. As though Dan had read his mind, however, he took Phil’s arm and pulled it over his body so that they were in a spooning position, which was really nice, except Phil had no idea what to do with his other arm, and resolved to just fold it over his own chest.

“Are you comfy?” Phil mumbled. In reply, Dan moaned as he exhaled. They were silent again for a while, and Phil thought how odd it was to lie so still. His muscles were tense, and his posture was unnatural. This wasn’t how it looked “in the movies” as they say. He shifted his limbs back and forth trying not disturb Dan, who eventually rolled over, and opened his eyes.

“Here,” he grunted, pulling the duvet around himself, and pushing the plush throw towards Phil. He wrapped himself in the other blanket and resolved that this was much better. Their two bodies were pressed against each other, but they were free to shift into any position they liked. They could had stayed this way for hours.

“Hey guys?’ called a soft, friendly voice through the- now cracked open -door. “Want some dinner?” Phil smiled; Mark was totally unphased by the scene before him.

“Maybe not now,”

‘ _I’m_ hungry,” Dan corrected, kicking Phil lightly in the back of his calf. Phil smiled again.

“Indian?” he pondered aloud into the darkness of his bedroom.

“I’m making Mexican. I’ll call you boys when it’s done.” Mark grinned, closing the door quietly, leaving Dan and Phil alone again.

“‘Could get used to this,” Dan mumbled into his blanket.

“Me too,” Phil whispered.

* * *

_“Don’t you see that I’ll never get better, Phil? Nobody can fix me! How can anyone take away what he did when I can barely acknowledge that it’s all true? You can’t fix me. I can’t fix me, and neither can Jayce…”_

Dan’s heart rate quickened, and he was crying again. Why? Why was he crying now? After everything he did, why did he miss Jayce? He fumbled with the gold chain which was layered and clasped around his wrist. Dan’s body heaved with silent sobs as the delightful sounds and smells of sizzling vegetables drifted in from the kitchen, inappropriately.

“Dan?” Phil roused. “Hey, it’s okay.” He held Dan’s waist, and pressed his forehead into his soft, warm curls. “I’m here.”

“Jay Jay,” Dan choked. Phil pushed his cheek into the groove between Dan’s shoulder and neck, and, at the time, it was all he could do.

“Was it… Two years ago yesterday? He whispered.

“Four days from now,” Dan replied, shrinking further into Phil’s hold.

“You loved him; it’s okay to grieve,” Phil assured. “I’ll be here for you.” Bodies softly touching, the pair lied side by side a few moments longer, until they heard the sounds of Mark turning off the stove, and scraping the contents of a pan. “Think you can handle dinner?”

Dan sniffed and nodded, kicking his legs over the side of the bed. “Yeah, I’m starving.”

As they stumbled sleepily into the kitchen, Phil saw how rough Dan looked. Smudged eyebrow pencil, reddened eyes, and patchy cheeks afflicted Dan’s face, and contrasted with his meek smile. Phil doubted he looked much different.

* * *

Phil exhaled deeply after he shut the door behind Dan that evening, and Mark looked expectantly at him from sofa, beer in hand.

“Men, am I right?” he joked.

“What are you talking about?” Phil giggled softly, taking a beer of his own from the fridge, and joining his friend on the couch. He bit his lip. “I’m worried about him.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mark replied sarcastically, and then seriously. “He’ll be okay, Philly. He just needs some help along the way.”

“I’m good at that,” Phil meant to state, but instead, it came out a question.

“You are.” Mark clinked his bottle against Phil’s, and nobody spoke. A comfortable understanding filling the room.


	11. Things I Can('t) Fix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry for how long this took! Some of you came after me, and I promised I'd post today. The game scene was the first part of this fic I even wrote, so I'm excited for (all 2 of) you to see how it all ties together. Please enjoy! There should be 1-2 more chapters :)

Phil stretched and rubbed his eyes, smoothing the wrinkles in his sheets with his feet. This was that day, the anniversary of Jayce’s suicide. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. How was Dan coping? Should he text him? It was probably too early. Phil glanced at the clock which read _11:34 am_. He’d slept in, damn it, but he guessed that meant it wasn’t too early to bother Dan.

Phil snatched his glasses and phone from his bedside table and discovered that Dan had already sent him a text: a simple “Hey”.

_Hey Dan. Wyd?_

A few seconds later, the sinking dots appeared, faded, and emerged again.

_I’m in bed._

_Feeling low._

_Do you want me to come over?_

_I’ll come to you. Give me 20 minutes._

* * *

 

In the shower, Phil breathed deeply as he scrubbed his hair, goose bumps forming on his pale skin. This wouldn’t be a fun day, he thought. Dan was struggling with his trauma, and Phil wasn’t educated or equipped to help him cope. He wasn’t great at helping people, he knew that, unlike Mark who could light up any room just by being himself. Phil wasn’t great at much, he realized, when he analyzed it. Not with people, not at his job…

There was a knock at the door, and Phil heard Mark’s bedroom door creak open, and then the front door, his unnaturally bright booming voice greeting the guest. Phil turned off the water, and dressed quickly, water soaking through his worn black jeans.

* * *

 

Mark wolf whistled as Phil emerged awkwardly from the bathroom, water from his hair bleeding onto the carpet. “Yes!” he growled. “Hottest lad in all of England right here.” Phil chuckled nervously, patting down his hair.

“Thank you.” Mark patted Phil on the shoulder once.

“I’ll be in the office!” he called, already halfway there.

“A’right!”

Phil looked his silent friend up and down. Black sweater, black jeans, unruly curls, and no makeup covering the scar above his eye. Gloom hung over the living room as Dan looked through Phil; the air was cold, and grey.

“Is Mark always… oblivious?” Dan inquired softly, voice broken, and fragile. Phil paused, wringing his hands.

“He’s not- … really… He tries to help. He cares. He’s just not very gentle.” Dan nodded, understanding. The air began to taste stale, a sensation Phil had never noted before. He padded quietly to the window sill, glanced briefly at the small, wilted plant, and opened the window half way. When he turned around he saw Dan still frozen in place, only half there, like a ghost.

“Come sit down,” Phil murmured.

* * *

They were silent for the better part of an hour, each lost in a dark, private contemplation. Was there nothing Phil could do to help? He rested his forehead in his hands and despaired. There must be something. One is never without hope.

There was something.

“Dan?” Phil spoke finally.

“Yeah?” Dan choked.

“I’m gonna make you something.”

Dan was silent for a moment again before replying. “What?”

“You’ll see… But it’ll take a few hours…”

“I-I guess I’ll sleep, I didn’t last night so.”

“Okay,” Phil whispered, determination brewing within himself. There was something he could do.

* * *

Dan could hear Phil and Mark whispering and thunking about in the office as he lay motionless on Phil’s bed. Sleep. How could he sleep? His body was safe, but his mind was in the war zone… His mind was with Jayce.

Deep, slow breaths.

He thumbed the gold chain on his wrist gently, pinching it loosely with his forefinger and running it back and forth, noting each bump.

He spotted five black things in the room, then three orange, two pink, and five blue.

Deep, slow breaths.

_He was undressed from the waist down, and lying sprawled on his front, muscles sore, and blankets tossed aside… [a] pulsing ache in his forehead._

He was in Phil’s bed, tense, but objectively comfortable, a heavy blanket protecting his body.

_Jayce smacked his hand over Dan’s mouth before pushing him back onto the bed, and kneeling on the mattress with his knees on either side of Dan’s waist._

Dan was safe. He was in Phil’s bed, and could hear the voices of his friends in the next room. Dan was safe.

…

He couldn’t handle being alone with his thoughts right now. What was Phil up to?

* * *

It was done. Made from scrap board, card stock, and pens was everything Phil could do to help. He stared at his work nervously, and critically.

“It’s really good, Phil.” Mark spoke, encouragingly. “You put your heart into this.”

“What if he’s right, though. Who am I to think I can fix him?” Mark pulled Phil’s office chair closer, and looked him dead in the eyes.

“Listen up, Philly. Dan _is_ right. People can’t be fixed, but it doesn’t mean they can’t be helped. You _know_ that; you said it yourself, so why won’t you listen to yourself? Honestly, Lester, I’ve felt like that guy does now, and if someone had made _this_ for me in my darkest moment, it would have meant the world to me. He trusts you; maybe he loves you. Get him in here. I’m going out to get fucked.”

* * *

“What is this?” Dan asked, as he stumbled into the office.

“I make games, Dan, It’s what I do.”

“Phil, this- this is silly. It could never-”

“Dan, you said something to me that I’ve thought a lot about. You said you can’t fix yourself, but I think you can, at least a little bit. Just… Give this a go, okay? If you hate it, I’ll buy you dinner.”

Dan cracked a small smile, and spoke weakly. “I’m holding you to that, Phil Lester.” Phil beamed in return.

“It goes like this, okay? We both start here-” he pointed to the start “and you roll to move forward.” Dan nodded, taking in the colorful, handmade game board. “You go.”

“Mmkay,” Dan agreed apprehensively, taking the die in his left hand, and gently rolling it onto the coffee table. “Four. One, two, three, four.” he pronounced as he tappped his pawn on each square. “Draw card?”

“Ooh, here.” Phil pushed the stack of cards towards him. Dan drew one and scanned it before reading aloud.

“‘Have you ever had to clean up a huge mess? How did you feel before and after?’ Ahm… I had a hamster when I was younger, Suki, and she always got out of her enclosure and left a mess on my floor, and I’d have to tear apart the house looking for her… First I was scared, because I couldn’t find her, and then when I did, I was frustrated ‘cause I had to clean the whole house, but after I finished I… I guess I felt tired, and relieved.” Phil listened intently, and nodded as Dan spoke monotonously.

“I had dozens of hamsters when I was in school. I had to do the same on a few occasions.” Phil chuckled.

“Yeah? That’s funny.” Dan replied, rousing a little.

Phil rolled the die and moved his pawn, drawing his own card. “‘Pick two animals that represent you. One that exemplifies your weaknesses, and one your streng-’” suddenly Dan howled with laughter, his smile contrasting with his teary, red eyes.

“Of course you’ve made a question about bloody animals!”

“It’s a good question! Shush!” Phil laughed along.

* * *

An hour later, the game was long finished, and the pair reclined in their office chairs, reading off the remaining questions. Some were light and inspiring, others digging deep. Most importantly, however, Dan was comfortable, grounded, and opening up like he’d never been able to before.


	12. Let Go

The air was still and icy as the pair stared at the grey stone. “Jayce Isaac Hopf, My beloved son.” it read. It’s hard to grieve for someone who hurt you, but Natalie had assured Dan that it was natural.

Phil shifted uncomfortably, and buried his hands in his coat pockets. What would Mark say? He was so good with words… No, he would be honest. Phil was capable of helping his friend on his own. He could use his own words. He cleared his throat.

“Jayce… Hurt you. But he hurt himself too, and it’s an awful tragedy that he died from his mental illness rather than get the help he needed to live a better life, and be a better person. Your pain is real, Dan, and you can’t blame yourself. You did all you could to help him, and you’ve suffered enough. You deserve far better than what he did to you.”

Dan was crying now, cross-legged a few feet away from Jayce’s tombstone. “I don’t hate him,” he choked. “Why don’t I hate him?” Phil remained silent for a long moment, and the only sound was Dan’s muffled sobs.

“I don’t know… I guess when you love someone unconditionally, it’s easy to forgive them, even if they aren’t sorry,” Phil hypothesized. “You couldn’t fix Jayce, and… It wasn’t your responsibility to, so… don’t beat yourself up.”

Dan nodded, and took Phil’s hand in his. You can’t fix everyone, that was true, and it was okay to feel love for a person who hurt you. It was natural to grieve. Dan pinched the clasp of the gold chain around his wrist and undid it, holding it in his open palm, staring motionlessly at the chains he’d worn for years.

“You can let go, Dan.” Phil prompted, and Dan followed. The chain fell like a lump in the grass, only a few inches from the stone, and Dan leaned into Phil’s shoulder.

“I… I love you, Phil.” Dan choked.

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the conclusion to this fic. This was hard to write, hence the huge time gaps. Jayce is a real person, and this is dedicated to him. Like "Dan" I don't hate him, but I forgive him, and I wish him the best. Thanks to those who have stuck by me during all this time. <3 follow me on tumblr @spicydanhowell

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is spicydanhowell :) hmu if you like
> 
> this fic should be a long one, so strap yourselves in.


End file.
